


same kind of crazy

by jxnna



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: ???idk if this is triggering, A lot - Freeform, AU, Depression, I apologize in advance, M/M, Mental Disorder, Mental Ward, Sad, Teen AU, cries over my own writing, help me why did i write this, im really sorry, this is stupid i hate myself
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-19
Updated: 2013-12-19
Packaged: 2018-01-05 03:14:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,222
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1088936
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jxnna/pseuds/jxnna
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Arthur is in a mental hospital for severe depression. He's alone, until he meets Merlin.</p>
            </blockquote>





	same kind of crazy

**Author's Note:**

> All i can say is I'm really really really really really really sorry please don't kill me
> 
> ok i took the basic idea of this from someone else's fic i think it was johnlock but i don't remember i can't remember the title of it or the author or where it was even posted but i just remembered it the other day and then this happened
> 
> and im really sorry about it
> 
> basically, teenage arthur is in a mental hospital for severe depression. just slight merthur because hes only fourteen and yeah idk theres really not that much and if it seems cute and fluffy im sorry my friend you are sadly mistaken
> 
> Also I don't know anything about mental wards or depression or anything so I did my best I'm sorry if I didn't do it too well
> 
> but yeah i spent a while on this and then left it then came back to it it's kinda messy and arthur's a bit ooc and stuff yeah sorry but i hope you like it and that i dont get an angry mob on me in the morning

_"Arthur, take the pills. Please."_

_Arthur stares down at the table, eyes tired with dark circles underneath, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he tries his hardest not to puke on himself. He hasn't eaten anything in two days. Not since_   _his only friend had gone away._

 

* * *

 

"Arthur, take your pills."

Arthur looks down at the two small pills on the plate next to what most people would consider a pitiful amount of food, but to Arthur it's more than he could possibly think about eating.

"Why?"

"Do we have to go through this every day?" The girl sighs, and Arthur stares down at his lap.

After a while the girl, a nurse named Gwen, threatens to bring in the doctor, an old man named Gaius. Gaius is usually the one to make Arthur take his pills, but he's not in the mood to try and argue with Gwen and Gaius, so he downs the two pills with a drink of water and stares down at his plate.

"Good job, Arthur," Gwen praises, sounding a bit surprised, and she stands up from the table.

Arthur listens as her footsteps fade, staying still until the room is completely silent.

Arthur's been in the ward for only a week, and he already hates it. What's the point in putting him in this place if all it does is make him even sadder than before?

 

* * *

 

Arthur doesn't understand most of the activities in the ward. They're done in groups, which proves to be a huge distraction for Arthur while he tries to focus on the project he really doesn't feel the need to do.

When the nurse asks what Arthur wrote on his paper, why he wants to get better, he answers with a shrug.

"You didn't write anything?" The nurse questions, to which Arthur hands her the paper that says in messy handwriting, "I don't know."

 

* * *

 

The next day is just as miserable as all the others.

Arthur wakes up early, pushes his breakfast around his plate, Gaius forces him to eat his pills and he goes to the group activity.

Today's assignment is to write about all his family members and what he thinks of them.

He starts with his father. He writes about how he feels like he can never live up to his father's expectations and that makes him sad. Then his half-sister, Morgana. He writes that he wishes they were as close as they used to be, as children. And then his mother. All he writes about her is "I don't know."

As he's closing the cover of his journal, he's elbowed in the side and looks over to see a boy with black hair smiling up at him.

"Hello," the boy greets.

"Hi," Arthur mutters and looks back down at his journal, wishing he had more to write about his mother.

"What's your name?" The boy asks.

"Arthur," Arthur mutters and looks back down at his journal, hoping the kid will take a hint and leave him alone.

Of course, to Arthur's luck, he just carries on talking. "I'm Merlin."

"Okay," Arthur says absentmindedly and for some reason he feels it the pit of his stomach that he's never going to be able to shake this kid.

His hunch proves to be correct, because Merlin seems to latch onto him for the rest of the day.

Merlin just blabs on and on about something Arthur can't be bothered to pay attention to, until it becomes completely unbearable and Arthur spins around on his heels and snaps, "don't you have somewhere to be?!"

Merlin doesn't seem to be phased by this, though, and he simply shrugs and pulls a slip of paper out of his bag and hands it to Arthur.

As Arthur reads through the schedule, he finds with a feeling of despair that Merlin and him have the exact same schedule.

"Great. I'm going to my room. See ya," Arthur says sarcastically as he ducks into his room and leans back onto the door just to make sure Merlin doesn't attempt to follow him in.

 

* * *

 

The next day includes multiple run-ins with Merlin, most of them consisting of the black-haired boy talking to Arthur too enthusiastically for Arthur's comfort while Arthur does his best to ignore him.

"So, how old are you?" Merlin asks as he follows Arthur to his table in the cafeteria.

"Fourteen," Arthur mutters his response, but Merlin, like always, isn't bothered by Arthur's tone.

"Cool. I'm thirteen," Merlin says as he slides onto the bench next to Arthur. The boy is too short to reach the floor under the table, and Arthur realizes for the first time with a sinking feeling that he can't, either, and that Merlin is actually taller than him. He doesn't know why this frustrates him, probably because Merlin's younger than him so he shouldn't be the taller one, right?

"What're you in here for?" Merlin asks after a minute of silence, and Arthur does his best not to groan.

"Depression."

"Me too," Merlin says, then takes a bite of his... Whatever they're eating.

"You don't seem very depressed," Arthur comments, a bit harshly.

"I know. That's why I'm here," Merlin answers and it takes Arthur a second to understand that. By the time he does, though, Merlin's already going on about something Arthur really doesn't care about, so he slides off the other side of the bench and walks away, rolling his eyes when he hears Merlin running after him.

"What do we have next?" Merlin asks, looking around at the walls of the hallway with a sort of interest that for some reason rubs Arthur the wrong way.

"Free time," Arthur answers, turning down the hallway leading to his room.

"Cool. What do you want to do?" Merlin asks, lengthening his stride to keep up with Arthur who's speed-walking to get away from him.

"Well, I'm going to go to my room and listen to music, I couldn't care less what you do."

"I'll come with you, then," Merlin decides, and Arthur doesn't have a chance to argue because Merlin's walking through the door to Arthur's room already, so he settles for a roll of his eyes and a slam of his door.

"What songs do you have?" Merlin asks, and Arthur hands him the USB stick containing ten songs, his ten favorites. All by The Beatles.

Merlin plugs the USB stick into the speaker in the corner of Arthur's room.

The first song that plays is Twist and Shout. Arthur loves The Beatles, he always has. He doesn't really understand why so many people listen to radio garbage when The Beatles exist, but he shrugs it off and sits down on the chair in the corner of his room, picking up his journal.

He's supposed to write about his day in it, but instead he usually just draws pictures. He likes pictures better.

"What are you doing?" Merlin asks, peeking over Arthur's shoulder and making Arthur jump.

"Drawing."

"Drawing what?"

"A dragon. Does it matter?"

"I like dragons. What's its name?"

"It's a drawing, Merlin. It doesn't have a name."

"I think it should. Let's name it... Kilgharrah."

"Why the bloody hell would I name my dragon drawing Kilgharrah?"

"I don't know. I think it's a cool name."

"I think it's stupid."

"I think you're stupid."

This takes Arthur by surprise. Merlin's staring directly at him through narrowed eyes, his face so close to Arthur's that their noses are almost touching. Arthur exhales heavily out of his nose and pulls his head away, conscious of the fact that Merlin's still staring at him as he touches up his dragon drawing.

"His names Kilgharrah," Merlin repeats, staring down at the paper with a certain fascination that Arthur feels a bit proud of. This boy really, really likes his drawing apparently. "And he's a good dragon."

"What makes you think he's a good dragon?" Arthur snaps, not phasing Merlin in the slightest. "Maybe I want him to be a bad dragon. He needs to get slayed by a prince."

"And I assume by your arrogant pratliness that you think you're going to be the prince?" Merlin snaps, and Arthur just shrugs. Of course he was going to be the prince. "No," Merlin says, pulling the book out of Arthur's hands and studying it carefully. "No, he needs someone to command him. To tell him what to do and how to act. He needs... He needs a Dragonlord," Merlin decides, handing the book back to Arthur with a proudly smug grin on his face.

"No, he needs to get a sword shoved through his heart by a prince," Arthur insists, and Merlin rolls his eyes.

"Why would you do that? He doesn't mean any harm."

"He's not your dragon, Merlin, he's mine. And I say we kill him."

"Don't kill him. Give him to me. I'll be his Dragonlord," Merlin says, his eyes looking almost hopeful. Arthur looks down at his finished drawing, then with a sudden surge of anger, rips it out of his book and throws it at Merlin.

"Fine. Be his Dragonlord. I don't care."

Merlin picks up the paper from the ground and stares down at it, a large grin spreading across his face. "Thank you, Arthur."

"Yeah, yeah," Arthur waves his hand lazily, placing his pencil down on the blank page and starting a new scribble. He decides this one is going to be a boy, one about his age. The boy is going to have magical powers and will be able to do so many things, everything normal people could only dream of.

Arthur works vigorously on his drawing for the next three days, Merlin being a constant nuisance as he does so. He doesn't realize as he's drawing, but once he looks at the finished product, he realizes with a sinking feeling that the magical boy on his page is none other than Merlin himself.

So when Merlin comes into his room that afternoon, immediately jumping into a long, excruciating story about his lunch with some other patient named Daegal, Arthur finds himself hastily trying to hide the drawing of the Merlin from the devil himself.

Much to his dismay, though, Merlin seems to be able to read his mind or something, because the younger boy gives Arthur a bit of a confused look and Arthur can only hide his face in his arms while Merlin pulls the drawing out of Arthur's journal. Arthur stays hidden until the silence becomes absolutely unbearable, and he's forced to sit up to see Merlin's reaction. The boy is staring down at the drawing through narrowed eyes, eyebrows furrowed together as he studies it.

"This is me?" He asks, and Arthur rolls his eyes, snatching the picture from Merlin's hands and shoving it back into his journal, ignoring the fact that it's now crinkled and he's ripped it at the top, and it's folded in a few places as Arthur pushes down on the cover of the journal. He doesn't care that he's ruined the drawing, just like he doesn't care about Merlin.

"It wasn't supposed to be," Arthur mutters, holding the journal to his chest and looking down at his knees, avoiding Merlin's stare. Merlin doesn't answer at first, and when Arthur looks back up he realizes that Merlin's gone. He chokes down the lump forming his throat and blinks quickly, trying to shove down the tears forming in his eyes because of the embarrassment. Arthur lets out an angry breath, then throws open the cover of the journal and grabs the drawing, about to tear it to shreds when Gwen sits beside him.

"Who's that, Arthur?" She asks, reaching for the drawing. He doesn't want Gwen to know that he's been drawing pictures of other patients, and he especially doesn't want her to ask about Merlin and have him talk about someone he doesn't like, so he quickly tears it in half, then in four, and continues until it's completely torn up. He throws it into the air, letting it rain down on him and Gwen as he glares at her.

"Good job, you ruined it," he snaps, getting to his feet and grabbing his things before storming out of the lunch room, leaving Gwen behind to pick up the pieces of his torn up drawing.

 

* * *

 

The next time Arthur sees Merlin is during their free time. He finds the boy sitting in the lounge room, nose buried in a book and feet propped up on the table.

"You're not supposed to put your feet up on there, you know," Arthur says awkwardly. Merlin jumps, obviously not seeing Arthur there, and he looks up with a smile on his face when he sees him.

"Arthur, hi."

"Hi," Arthur says, shuffling his feet on the ground awkwardly and looking down at the newspapers scattered on the table next to Merlin's feet, which Arthur only now notices are abnormally large, even for someone Merlin's height.

"I didn't think you would-"

"Yeah, well, I'm here. What are you reading?"

Merlin raises his eyes at Arthur, staring at him for a moment longer before closing the cover of the book while holding his thumb inside it to hold his page. "Harry Potter. The Half-Blood Prince. I'm almost finished it, you can read it after me if you want."

"No, it's alright, I'll just watch the movie."

Merlin, with the smallest hint of a smile, rolls his eyes and mutters something about being uncivilized. Before Arthur can comment on it, though, Merlin cuts him off and starts talking about something else. Arthur finds with relief that Merlin's either forgotten about the drawing or realizes that it's not something Arthur wants to talk about. Either way, Arthur is grateful.

And despite how much Arthur didn't like Merlin when he'd first met him, and as much as it kills him to admit it, Arthur finds that he's really glad Merlin didn't find Arthur really odd for drawing a picture of him, and that the boy still wants Arthur around.

 

* * *

 

Days pass, weeks pass, and still Merlin doesn't bring up the drawing. It's killing Arthur inside wondering how the younger boy feels about it, but he doesn't want to risk resurfacing it if Merlin had completely forgotten about it.

So he leaves it be.

 

* * *

 

After about a month, Arthur finds himself much happier being at the ward with Merlin around. He's still depressed, he knows that, but he's a lot happier now than he's been in a long, long time.

 

* * *

 

It's a Wednesday when Arthur calls his father for the first time since being admitted (dumped, really) to the ward.

He picks up the phone and dials the familiar number. It rings once, twice, three times before someone answers.

"Uther Pendragon's office, Nimueh speaking."

Nimueh is Arthur's father's secretary, and used to babysit Arthur and Morgana when they were very young.

"Hi, Nimueh. It's Arthur."

"Arthur, hi! It's great to hear from you! How have you been?"

"Fine. Is my father there?" He asks, and he hears the shuffling of papers for a few moments before Nimueh replies.

"He should be home, why don't you try his cell phone? He usually has it on him."

"Do you have it? I don't remember it," Arthur admits, and Nimueh laughs a bit.

"Or course." She gives Arthur the number and he writes it on his hand, then thanks her and hangs up the phone.

He dials his father's number, and the phone rings for what seems like forever before Uther picks up.

"Hello?"

"Dad? It's Arthur."

"Oh, hi. How are you?"

"I'm fine. Just calling to say hi," Arthur says, trying to get past the awkwardness of talking to his father for the first time in nearly two months.

"What are you up to there?" Uther asks, and Arthur can hear something printing behind his father so he knows that Uther is doing something else now, but it's the first time he's spoken to his son in two months, he can spare a few minutes of his day.

"Not much. I made a new friend."

"Oh, who's that?"

"His name is Merlin," Arthur says, unable to hold down his smile when he says the name.

"That's good. What's he like?"

"Nice. Really nice, kind of annoyingly nice. He likes to read and he has really big feet. And he has black hair and blue eyes and he's taller than me, but I'm older than him which is unfair I think."

"Yes, I suppose it is. But, Arthur, I really have a lot to do so I can't talk. But what do you say me and Morgana come down for a visit sometime next week or so?"

"Okay! You'll have to call the front desk and tell them, though. They may not let you in unless you call them first."

His father laughs a bit, and Arthur can almost see him shaking his head. "Alright, Arthur. I'll see you then."

 

* * *

 

Arthur runs into Merlin as soon as he makes it to the lounge room. The younger boy is reading Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince again, and Arthur jumps onto the couch next to him and snatches the book from his hands.

"Hey, I was-"

"Guess what?" Arthur cuts him off, an excited grin on his face.

"What?"

"My dad is coming!" Arthur exclaims, setting Merlin's book down on the table.

"Really? That's great!"

"Yeah! And my sister- well, half-sister. I haven't seen my family in months," Arthur sighs, and Merlin just smiles.

"Well, it's good that you get to see them, then."

"I've missed them a lot. What about you, Merlin? What's your family like?"

Merlin shrugs at the question, reaching for his book but not opening it once he grabs it. "It's only me am my mother. My father left before I was born, and I don't have any siblings."

Arthur nods thoughtfully. "My mum died when I was born."

Merlin looks up at Arthur a bit sadly, and Arthur shakes his head before he can say anything comforting. "It's alright. I never met her, I don't know anything about her."

"I wish I knew my father," Merlin sighs, and Arthur stares at him for a moment longer before sitting properly on the couch and putting his arm around Merlin comfortingly.

Arthur hates touch. He's always hated it. It's a part of his disorder, whichever disorder that is. The only person who Arthur would let touch him, really, was Morgana.

But Merlin was different. Merlin was his friend, his best friend. Besides Morgana, Merlin was his only friend.

 

* * *

 

It all happened quite quick, really.

Two days after that, Merlin sits in Arthur's room on his bed, Hey Jude playing softly from the corner of the room, and Arthur drawing a picture in the chair next to the bed.

"Are you finished it yet?" Merlin asks for the fifth time in ten minutes, and Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs in annoyance.

"Almost. Give me two minutes."

"You said that two minutes ago."

"Merlin."

"Fine, sorry."

Merlin stays quiet until Arthur finished the drawing, rips it out of the journal and hands it to him.

Merlin studies it closely. It's a picture of the room they're in, complete with Arthur sitting in the chair drawing said picture and Merlin whining on the bed.

Merlin laughs, obviously seeing himself on the bed, and he shakes his head while handing it back to Arthur. "Thanks."

"You wouldn't shut up."

"I'm not a patient person."

"I got that."

Merlin scoffs, leaning back on the wall and grabbing his feet in his hands in his cross-legged position. "I'm bored."

"You have your own room," Arthur says, fixing up some mistakes in the walls of the picture.

"It's even more boring than this one."

"What do you want from me, Merlin?" Arthur snaps playfully, and Merlin sighs before jumping off the bed and walking over to the speaker. He turns the music up, letting The Beatles play through the room and down the hallway outside the closed door. Merlin runs over to Arthur and grabs the journal, tossing it onto the bed despite Arthur's protests, and grabbing the older boy's hands and pulling him to his feet.

"And don't you know that it's just you, hey Jude, you do," Merlin sings, and Arthur rolls his eyes as Merlin spins him around the room.

"The movement that you need is on your shoulders," Arthur laughs, letting go of Merlin's hands and instead putting him into a headlock.

Merlin struggles to escape, laughing almost as hard as Arthur, and before the blonde boy can blink, Merlin kicks him with surprising might in the back of the legs and the both fall to the ground.

Merlin lands on top of Arthur, both laughing as Merlin puts his hands on the ground on either side of Arthur's head. "I win," he smirks, and Arthur squirms a bit but Merlin's holding him down. "White flag?"

Arthur pretends to think about this for a moment, then smirks right back at Merlin. "Nah."

He grabs the younger boy by the wrists and with one movement, flips him over so that Arthur's in the position Merlin was before.

"Cheater," Merlin mutters, and Arthur scoffs.

"How am I a cheater? You're just mad because I beat you."

"No, I'm mad because you cheated!"

"How did I cheat?"

"I don't know!"

Arthur rolls his eyes, and he's about to let Merlin up when something stops him.

Arthur's never been attracted to boys. He's never been attracted to anyone, really, but he certainly hasn't been attracted to boys. But before he can think about what he's doing, Arthur reaches down and quickly pecks Merlin on the lips, then pulls back and sits next to him on the floor.

Merlin sits up, too, and looks over at Arthur who's avoiding the younger boy's stare.

It's silent for a while until Merlin shifts, and Arthur is taken by surprise when Merlin kisses him again quickly, then gets to his feet and walks out of the room without another word.

 

* * *

 

Arthur avoids Merlin like the plague after that. He still isn't sure what had happened there, but he's definitely not ready to talk about it. Not yet.

His father and Morgana come to visit two days after. Morgana hugs him, and Arthur flinches, this being the first hug he's received in two months. His father doesn't touch him, though. He's grateful for that.

"So, when do I get to meet this Merlin friend of yours?" Uther asks, and Arthur shrugs as Morgana pokes him in the side and he squirms to get out of her reach.

"I don't know. He'll be at the group activity now, so not today. Maybe some other time."

After a while of discussion, Uther excuses himself to go to the bathroom, leaving Arthur and Morgana alone.

"So what's it like?" She asks, and Arthur raises an eyebrow at her.

"Well, I'm locked in a mental ward after being diagnosed with what may as well have been psychosis from the way they treated me when I first showed up here, even though I'm only suffering from severe depression and suicidal tendencies, what do you think it's like?"

"You're not suicidal," Morgana points out, and Arthur shrugs, looking away from her.

"Not yet."

"Arthur-"

"No, it's okay. I'm getting better, really. Merlin's helping."

"You seem really fond of him," Morgana says, and when Arthur looks back he sees her staring up at him with a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"He's my best friend here," Arthur says offhandedly. And then a thought hits him and he feels his heart sink in his chest a bit. "Morgana.... What do you think about boys liking other boys?"

Morgana gives him a knowing look, then shrugs. "Love is love, I guess. It's not really my place to say."

Even though she's only just thirteen, Morgana's always been wise for her age. She often goes off on long spiels about random things that interest her, but Arthur had never really paid any mind to it until he'd been informed that she was what most people considered a genius, and that she was being placed four grades ahead. She's been three grades ahead of Arthur since he was seven and she was six, and now, at just thirteen, Morgana will be graduating high school next year while Arthur is stuck in a mental ward with severe depression.

He'd never tell her, though he's certain she knows, that her being four years ahead is most of the reason Arthur's where he is now. If she hadn't been so advanced, Uther wouldn't have put more strain on Arthur to succeed, and he wouldn't have felt that he was failing his father by not being as smart as his sister.

"Is it Merlin?" She asks when Arthur doesn't say anything, and he looks down at her without answering. She nods, looking over at the door where Uther is coming. "Well, tell him thanks for me."

"Why?"

"Because. If he makes you happy, that's enough for me to be grateful."

 

* * *

 

Sometimes Merlin will share stories with Arthur. He likes to talk about knights and dragons and princesses and things. Usually he uses people from the ward in his stories, like making Gwen the queen and Gaius the doctor, and all the patients knights or civilians or guards.

Sometimes he'd ask Arthur to draw pictures to go with his stories, and Arthur would. Scattered across Arthur's floor are drawings upon drawings of medieval knights an castles and such. Merlin is magical in most of them. And because of Arthur's arrogant pratliness, he makes himself the prince.

Merlin doesn't seem to mind.

 

* * *

 

They admit a new patient on July 16th. Her name is Sefa.

Sefa takes most of Gwen's attention, trailing behind the nurse constantly and helping her out with her chores.

"Gwen's servant," Merlin says to Arthur one day as the blonde boy watches Sefa follow Gwen around like a puppy.

"Do you think she's a traitor?" Arthur whispers, leaning over to Merlin but not taking his eyes of Sefa.

Merlin studies the pair for a few moments before answering Arthur's question. "Maybe. I don't think so. She looks loyal enough."

Arthur nods in agreement, making a mental note to add Sefa to his next drawing of the queen.

 

* * *

 

Merlin apparently has a habit of reading more than one book at a time.

Arthur picks this up when he finds Merlin sitting with his legs crossed on the couch and a book in his hand that definitely isn't Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince.

"Aren't you in the middle of a book?" Arthur asks, sitting next to him, and Merlin shrugs.

"You can never have just one book."

"You can have more than one, you're just supposed to finish one and then start another," Arthur says with a raised eyebrow.

Merlin doesn't answer him directly. His eyes scan the page until a small smile forms on his lips and he reads in an absentminded tone, "my thoughts are stars I cannot fathom into constellations."

"John Green?" Arthur asks, and Merlin looks up at him a bit confusedly.

"You like John Green?"

Arthur just shrugs and Merlin goes back to his book. Arthur rereads it over his shoulder.

 

* * *

 

Sophia first approaches Arthur at lunch.

Merlin's not anywhere in sight, he's probably off watching Sefa to make sure she doesn't betray Gwen, and Arthur isn't really expecting anyone to eat lunch with him, which is why he's surprised when Sophia sets her tray down and slides into the seat across from Arthur.

"Hi," she smiles, and Arthur looks up mid-bite and raises an eyebrow at her.

"Hello."

"I'm Sophia," she introduces herself.

Arthur sets down his lunch and folds his hands on the table. "Arthur. Can I help you with anything?"

Sophia makes a face and shakes her head. "No. You just looked lonely."

"I'm fine," Arthur says, picking up his fork again.

"Alright. Is it okay if I stay?" She asks.

"Knock yourself out," Arthur mutters, looking down at his plate as he takes a bite of whatever the food on his plate is.

Sophia, he finds, is very talkative. Even more than Merlin, which is surprising, because Arthur didn't think he would ever find someone more talkative than Merlin.

By the end of lunch he's fighting off the strong urge to rip off his ears, and he nearly sings hallelujah when Sophia leaves to go to the lounge room.

"Who was that?" Merlin asks, sitting in the seat Sophia was in just a moment earlier.

"Not someone you want to meet," Arthur shakes his head, pushing his food around on the plate with his fork.

"Alright. Well, what do you say we go on an adventure during free time?"

 

* * *

 

The question "what kind of adventure?" was completely pointless, Arthur finds, no matter how many times he asks it. Nor is "where are we going?" or "won't we get in trouble?"

"Shut up," is Merlin's response to nearly every question Arthur asks. They're really far away from the group, in the small patch of trees on the far corner of the fenced in yard. Merlin, without even looking over his shoulder to see if someone's watching, reaches up and grabs a branch. With a heave and a strained breath, he pulls himself up into the tree and onto the branch.

"Get down," Arthur hisses at him, sending a worried glance over his shoulder at the supervisor.

"Relax, Arthur. Before you showed up I did this all the time. They don't even notice," Merlin rolls his eyes.

Arthur stares at him for a moment longer before letting out a defeated sigh and reaching for the branch.

"Arthur, what are you doing?" A voice calls just as he pulls himself up, and Arthur lets go of the branch which results in him landing on his ass on the ground.

Merlin laughs as he jumps down, landing gracefully next to Arthur who pulls himself off the ground and dusts off the back of his pants. "Why do they never yell at you?" Arthur whines, and Merlin shrugs with a laugh.

"Dunno. Maybe they just like picking on you."

Arthur rolls his eyes, reaching out and smacking Merlin with the back of his hand. Merlin laughs again, dodging Arthur's second hit, and takes off back to the area outside the building, Arthur chasing after him.

 

* * *

 

Arthur doesn't see Merlin for a few days after that. Despite their identical schedules, Merlin doesn't show up for any of their activities. What's even weirder is that the nurses and doctors don't seem to even notice his absence, which is odd seeing as though any time anyone's absent they always make a big deal out of it. This is what worries Arthur about it.

With this in mind, Arthur finds himself growing a bit suspicious that something's happened to Merlin that they've all been informed not to talk about. And Arthur takes it upon himself to find out what's happened to him.

He decides to start with the nurse who runs the outdoor section of the hospital. She's rather new, just started a week or so ago. She's still getting to know all the patients and their disorders and stuff, so Arthur wouldn't be surprised if she didn't know his name. He finds her sitting under the shade of a tree, a book in her hands and a pair of glasses falling down her nose. "Excuse me, Nurse Freya?"

The girl looks up at Arthur over the top of the frame of her glasses, a warm smile forming on her lips. "Hello, Arthur. Can i help you with something?"

Arthur shakes his head, crossing his arms across his chest. "I was just wondering if you knew where Merlin is."

Freya raises an eyebrow at him and gives him a confused look. "Merlin?"

"Yeah, he's taller than me, black hair, blue eyes, really irritating, wears different variations of the same outfit every day. Do you know where he is?"

Freya bites her lip and looks down at her feet as she closes the cover of her book. Arthur notices that she doesn't mark her page before she closes the book, and he's about to tell her that she just lost her page when she pulls herself to her feet and grabs Arthur's hand in hers. "Come with me, Arthur. We're going to go see Gaius, alright?"

Arthur pulls his hand away and stomps his foot stubbornly. "I don't want to see Gaius. I've already seen him today and I took my pills, I promise. I just want you to tell me where Merlin is."

"Arthur," Freya whispers, almost sadly, and she shakes her head while looking down at her feet. "I really do think you should see Gaius."

"I already have, I don't need to see him twice! Why won't you tell me where Merlin is, has something bad happened to him? Is that why he isn't here? Has he been transferred?"

"No, no, I'm sure Merlin is still here somewhere, don't worry," Freya says, but the way she says it makes Arthur think that she was saying it to herself. "Arthur, come with me of I will get Gaius out here to see you."

"No. I don't want to go anywhere with you. And I don't want to see Gaius, I want to see Merlin. Where is he?"

"Alright, that's enough, Arthur. Come with me now," Freya says in a stricter tone, grabbing Arthur by the arm and pulling him with her.

Arthur's never been good with touch. He's never liked when people touch him, which is something his father would always get frustrated about. Arthur would constantly refuse to hug visiting family members when they came down on special holidays, he wouldn't let anyone shake his hand or anything like that. The only people who Arthur lets touch him are Morgana and Merlin.

So when Freya grabs Arthur, he loses it. He screams, trying to pull away, and when Freya doesn't let go, he lashes out, punching her as hard as he can in the arm. He can tell he's hurt her a bit, but in his fit he can't bring it upon himself to care. Before he can think, though, he's got more hands on him and as hard as he tries to fight back, Arthur can't overpower all the people holding him. He feels a sharp pain in his neck and finds himself slowly draining of all energy, and he keeps fighting the nurses until his eyes close and he falls forward into Freya's arms unconscious.

 

* * *

 

Arthur wakes up to the sound of muffled voices outside his room. He knows he's in his room because Let it Be by the Beatles is playing softly from the corner across the room where his music speaker is, and because he can hear the sound of the washing machine in the laundry room, which is (annoyingly) next to his room.

Arthur, without opening his eyes, strains his ears to try and make out what the nurses are saying. He recognizes both voices, one is Freya's which Arthur is a bit relieved about even though she did grab his arm, and the other is an older nurse, a woman named Morgause who Arthur has always been a bit afraid of. He doesn't catch many of their words, but he does hear them say Merlin, hallucination and psychotic. Arthur feels a pit form in the bottom of his stomach when he realizes what's happened to Merlin. The boy's gone crazy. He'd been seeing things, and he's probably in isolation until he can be transferred to one of the bigger hospitals. One of Arthur's friends in the ward, Leon, had told Arthur about a boy named Gilli who'd been transferred to London after he had a mental breakdown.

Arthur cracks an eye open when he hears the door open, and he turns his head to see Freya and Morgause coming up to him, Gaius behind them. Arthur bites back a sigh and turns his head back to look at the ceiling. "How are you feeling, Arthur?" Freya asks, kneeling beside his bed. Arthur does his best not to flinch, and Freya sights and stands back up.

"Arthur," a different voice, Gaius', speaks up, and Arthur closes his eyes and lets out a long exhale of breath. "Arthur, we need to speak to you."

Arthur opens his eyes again and turns his head to look at Gaius, who's got a small smile on his face that looks sad and forced, and Arthur tries to push away the urge to close his eyes again.

"Merlin's being transferred," Arthur says, staring up at the ceiling and blinking away the tears that are forming in his eyes and blurring his vision.

"Arthur-"

"He's gone crazy. I heard you all. Is he going to London like Gilli?"

"Merlin isn't being transferred," Gaius says, and Arthur looks over at him, letting a tear slip out of the corner of his eye and fall down his cheek.

"He's not?"

"Arthur, have you ever heard of Merlin, the Wizard?" Gaius asks, and Arthur shakes his head, pulling himself into a sitting position and crossing his legs on the bed. "Your parents might have read you stories about him when you were a child. He's a very famous legend. It's not surprising that you don't remember him, though."

"What does that Merlin have to do with my Merlin?" Arthur asks, his gaze passing between the three of them.

Gaius sighs, looking over at Morgause and Freya, then back at Arthur. "I'm afraid that when you were admitted here, you were misdiagnosed."

This throws Arthur for a bit of a loop. "So what am I, then?"

"You are what's called a schizophrenic."

"What's that?" Arthur asks, tilting his head to the side in confusion.

"You may not understand the medical definition, but the most common form, and the form we think you have, is a kind of psychosis which causes vivid hallucinations."

"I still don't see what this has to do with Merlin," Arthur says, and Freya takes a step towards Arthur and hands him a few pieces of paper.

"Those are security camera captures. All those times you thought you were with Merlin, Arthur, you were alone."

Arthur feels his heart sink further and further each time he turns a page. All the evidence is there, but he still doesn't believe it. He can't bring himself to believe it.

"No, you're lying. You're lying to me," Arthur stutters, his voice shaking as he puts the pictures down on the bed. "You're liars, all of you."

"Arthur, Merlin doesn't exist."

 _"Liar!"_ Arthur yells, grabbing one of his pillows and throwing it at Freya. He jumps to his feet, running to the table where his journal is and throwing that at her, too. "Liar!"

"Arthur, please calm down-"

"No! You're lying to me!"

"Arthur, Merlin is not real."

Arthur grabs his hair in his hands and pulls on it, feeling each strand being pulled out of his head one by one. He sinks to the ground, pulling his knees to his chest and burying his head in his knees as he sits there bawling his eyes out for what seems like forever.

 

* * *

 

Arthur doesn't have to turn around to sense the other presence in the room. He knows, he can feel him there.

"So it's true, then. What they said about you."

He doesn't reply, and Arthur turns around, meeting the familiar blue eyes for the first time in three days.

"This whole time, you haven't been real."

"I'm sorry-"

"Don't apologize," Arthur mutters, shaking his head. "It's not your fault I'm a psychopath."

"You're not a psychopath," Merlin sighs, sitting on the bed beside Arthur.

"Right, sorry. I'm a schizophrenic. Apparently there's a difference."

"Arthur-"

"I'm on new medication. If it works, I won't see you anymore. You know that, right?"

Merlin sighs again, folding his hands in his lap and staring down at them through narrowed eyes. "Yes."

"I'm sorry, Merlin. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry," Arthur begins saying, whispering, chanting. He's held it together for this long, but seeing Merlin again with the knowledge that he's not really sitting on the bed next to him is just too much.

"Why are you apologizing?" Merlin asks, placing a hand on Arthur's arm, making the older boy flinch and pull away.

"I took the medication. I didn't even think twice, I can't believe I did that to you. I'm sorry, so sorry. I won't take them anymore, I promise I won't."

"Arthur," Merlin says in a flat tone, and Arthur looks over at him through tear stained eyes. "It's not healthy. If me being here is making you worse, I shouldn't be here."

"I don't care. I want you here."

"You-"

"I don't want to be alone anymore, Merlin. I want you here."

Merlin sighs, running a hand through his hair and licking his lips. "Take your medicine, Arthur. For me, please." Neither one of them say a word until Merlin places his hand on Arthur back and whispers, "goodbye, Arthur."

Before Arthur can answer, Merlin disappears right before his eyes, and Arthur chokes out a sob and curls into a ball on his bed, pulling on his hair again to try and get a grip on reality.

 

* * *

 

"Arthur, take the pills. Please."

Arthur stares down at the table, eyes tired with dark circles underneath, his arms wrapped around his stomach as he tries his hardest not to puke on himself. He hasn't eaten anything in two days. Not since his only friend had gone away.

He only took his pills once. Usually the nurses leave him alone if he hold off long enough, because it's gotten to the point where even Gaius can't convince him anymore. After Merlin went away he hadn't taken his pills anymore, holding onto the flicker of hope that if he doesn't take them, maybe, just maybe, Merlin will come back.

He does sometimes. Only for a few seconds, though. Usually he never says a word, just looks down at the plate of food that Arthur has no intention of eating from, or the fresh scars on his wrists from just that morning or the night before, then shakes his head sadly and disappears again.

Arthur can feel himself slowly slipping away. Every day reality gets further and further away from his reach, and every day he can feel himself getting more and more crazy. It's the consequence of not taking his pills- that he knows- but it's not like he cares. He can hardly differentiate between reality and his own minds anymore, and it's like the longer he holds on to the thought of Merlin, the further the boy goes away.

One day- Arthur thinks it might be a Thursday, but it could very well be a Monday or a Saturday, it's not like he's paying attention to what day it is- Arthur finds himself in the bathroom, staring at himself in the bathroom mirror. He doesn't have his own bathroom, so he's forced to use the public one which has patients coming ad going constantly. Most of them ignore him, but some stare at him staring at himself until they get bored or uncomfortable and leave.

There's two other people in the bathroom, one is a girl with hair up to her shoulders that looks like she cut it herself, which is very well possible here seeing as though it wouldn't be that difficult for a patient to get their hands on a pair of scissors. The other is a boy with shaggy black hair and bright blue eyes and Arthur thinks for a moment that it's Merlin, but with a sinking feeling he sighs when he recognizes Mordred.

Mordred's not his friend, really, just a guy he knows from the group activity period. Mordred would often give him strange looks when he saw Arthur talking to Merlin, and Arthur never really knew why until now. Mordred's sane, he thinks, because most of the insane people here don't look twice when they see Arthur talking to air. Mordred tended to avoid the insane people- Arthur did, too, until he realized he was one of them. He still avoids them, but now he understands them a bit better. Arthur doesn't talk to anyone. Not Mordred, not Gwaine, the boy in the room next to him, not Lance, the nurse who took care of the group period, nobody.

Mordred sits in the corner of the bathroom, staring at Arthur intently. Arthur isn't sure if the boy thinks he can't see him or if he simply doesn't care, and Arthur finds himself leaning more towards the latter.

"It's been two hours," Mordred says after what Arthur thinks is 10 minutes- he's counted to 600 in his mind, and 60 seconds is 1 minute so 600 must be 10, if he's done the math correctly. He's never been particularly good at math.

Arthur doesn't answer him, though. Whatever sick joy Mordred's getting out of watching a psychopath stare at himself in the mirror for two hours is his own problem. And after Arthur counts to 600 in his mind again, he finally decides he's had enough.

He clenches his fist, and before Mordred has a chance to react, Arthur slams it into the mirror, shattering the glass into hundreds of pieces. The pain shoots up his arm, but he doesn't complain. He ignores the sound of Mordred gasping, scrambling to his feet and calling out the door for a nurse.

And as he stares down at his hand, bloody and covered in broken pieces of glass, for the first time since Merlin left, Arthur smiles.

 

* * *

 

Arthur's alone. With a sliced up hand and a feeling of absolute insanity, Arthur is completely and utterly alone in the world.

He never sees Merlin again. He looks for him everywhere, but the black-haired boy never appears again.

Arthur doesn't draw anymore. His journal which used to be filled with colorful drawings of Kings and Queens and dragons and castles is now filled with pages and pages of the same three words over and over again.

_he's not real he's not real he's not real he's not real he's not real_

The more pages you flip, the messier the writing gets and the more teardrops stain the paper.

And at the end of the journal, on the very last page, Arthur starts to write a letter.

_Dear Merlin,_

_I'm really not good at this. Which is why I usually draw pictures in here, instead of write things. But I figured that if I couldn't say goodbye to you in person, this is the next best thing._

_Because you're gone._

_It took a while for me to accept. I still haven't really accepted it, even though I know it's true. It's one of those my-mind-says-yes-but-my-heart-says-no things, I think._

_Honestly, when I thought of you leaving, I never thought it would have been like this. So sudden, and my own fault. I thought you'd have gotten the OK and let out, back to your old life with your mother in that small town you came from. Too bad it doesn't exist. It never has._

_I thought you'd have left before this. I thought you'd have gotten to know me and left just like everyone else does. And I know you're not real, but I'm sure you're real enough to realize that I'm a complete and utter disaster._

_But it turns out you stayed, and you dealt with this mess. I still have no idea if it was my mind making you stay, or if it was you staying. I'm not sure if hallucinations have the power to make their own decisions, but if it was you, I still have no idea what to do with the prospect of someone staying._

_I never really understood why you stuck around. Why you dealt with me, the depressed, schizophrenic, psychotic Arthur Pendragon. Nobody ever stuck around, not even my father who dropped me off in a mental ward because he couldn't be bothered to deal with me himself. I never really understood a lot of things about you, like why you read more than one book at once or why you wear different variations of the same outfit every day or why you would always stare at me while I drew pictures of you, which was backwards since I should have been staring at you._

_But I think I'm starting to._

_As I write this, I'm sitting on my bed, slaving over a journal and my neck kills and my legs are kinda sore because I'm sitting on them and I don't think they're getting any blood circulation, and I'm crying. Because it's only now, after finally sitting down and accepting the fact that you're gone and you're not coming back, that I understand why you stayed._

_I hate you, Merlin. I hate you for leaving me, for making me alone again, for giving me something I've always wanted, a friend, and then taking it away. I hate you for making me cry. And I love you, everything about you._

_But especially the part that chose to stay with me through it all._

_-Arthur_


End file.
